Seeing Red
by Blood Red Kiss of Death
Summary: Pre-pilot; Eric's suicide attempt


**Disclaimer:** 'Gossip Girl' belongs to Cecily von Ziegesar, Josh Schwartz and the CW. No copyright infringement intended.  
**Timeline: **pre-pilot  
**Warnings: **suicide attempt  
**Author's Note: **Lily isn't exactly my favorite person at the moment, and really, with her actions this season, I really cannot blame Eric. I just need to get the frustration out somehow. TOUCHY SUBJECT! _**Read at your own risk.**_

* * *

The Palace Hotel suite was empty except for 14-year-old Eric van der Woodsen. His mother was out. Some post-divorce _thing_. He tried to listen, but she just skipped over any details. Said she was going out and blew him a kiss.

Not unusual since Lily van der Woodsen was a flake. She fled with the latest boyfriend, not caring about her two children. When that happened, his older sister Serena would take him to the Waldorf's or Archibald's.

But Blondie Junior wasn't that much more reliable than their mother.

Serena partied and came home – if she came home – wasted. And then, a few months ago, she left. For boarding school.

He didn't know why, but she left him alone with their mother.

Who, shortly after, decided to divorce Husband #3. And, as a post break-up coping mechanism, she decided to redecorate their perfectly beautiful apartment. Thus moving them into a _hotel_ to _live_ in. And he just followed along because no one cared about his opinion.

No one seemed to care about him; care to think about what their actions did to him. They just left him.

His mother's way to deal with him? _Anti-depressants_. And then go on her merry way with the new man.

The boy was currently in his hotel suite bed and staring blankly at the ceiling. The TV was on to some channel; his homework still in his backpack.

The rest of his peers rejoiced in no-parental supervision; he wished he had some.

Or anyone.

But no one was around.

Mom was too wrapped up in herself. Sister was trying to save herself. Friends? He had none, and even if he did, they were society folks, not real friends you could talk substance with.

Not like the friends Serena had in Blair, Nate and Chuck.

Maybe he could…

_No._

Chuck Bass lived a few floors above; his father owned the hotel. He was a notorious womanizer and partier. He had better things to care about than some little freshman nobody.

Nate Archibald? Eric spent plenty of time around him before his sister left. But Eric knew Nate was crushing on his sister. And he did not want to talk about how _she_ was.

Blair Waldorf. His brunette sister. The one person who actually cared. She was always there for Serena and him. Always called Eric when Serena wouldn't be home. Always asked how _he_ was. But Serena was gone. And the only time he saw the girl was in the school courtyard, ruling over her _loyal_ subjects.

But she'd listen, right?

_Why bother?_ a voice in his head reprimanded.

Her family was trying to ride out a scandal. Her father left her and her mother for some male model. Blair had enough on her plate. No point in burdening her with _nothing_.

His issues were insignificant. They mattered to no one.

No one noticed his problems. And they didn't notice him, either.

They didn't care. And so they wouldn't care if he was there or not.

Then his mother would be free from her children. He'd be doing her a favor.

Eric bolted upright and looked around.

After a couple of thoughtless minutes in a hotel room that was his current home, Eric left his bed and the room and entered the bathroom.

He shut the door and walked over to the mirror to look at himself. Besides the too blond highlights, only a blank stare looked back.

Sighing, Eric opened the medicine cabinet and reached for his pills.

Once the bottle was in his hand, he paused.

Two months.

He was on those useless drugs for two months and they didn't help.

Reevaluating his situation, he unwrapped his hold on the bottle.

And then his gaze strayed from the mirror to his arms. His veins were so blue.

Eric looked in the mirror again and nodded to his reflection.

His mind was made up. He needed a permanent escape.

He reached for the bottle again and unscrewed the cap. Fishing inside, he pulled out a blade, and then recapped the medication and closed the cabinet.

One day last week, Eric was at a store and came across the object. He decided to buy it, _just in case_. For the perfect moment when he was sure there was nothing left any more. For _now_.

With the tool in his left hand, he lifted his right wrist and returned to the mirror. His eyes watched his reflection as he slid the instrument across his wrist. He winced for a second and then red seeped out. He exhaled. He felt like he could breathe. He nodded again and, numbly, switched hands, slicing his left hand.

He would be _free_.

Everyone would be free from having to care – or not – about him.

Moving his gaze off the mirror and down to his arms, he stared.

His breathing became labored and he felt light headed.

The razor dropped from his hand into the sink.

Eric slowly moved away from the sink. He dropped to his knees and then slid to sit in front of the tub. He leaned against the object and rested his arms on his jean-covered legs, which where outstretched in front of him.

Blood was oozing from his wrists; his pants began to stain.

Red clouded his vision. _Blood _red. He listened to his heart. It was pounding in his ears. Or was the organ actually slowing?

Eric wasn't sure.

He just focused on the marks.

And then red turned black.

* * *

Lily van der Woodsen walked into her hotel suite with a bright smile. New relationships always made her happy. And best of all, she had spent a beautiful evening in his suite. No paparazzi in sight. No intrusion of privacy. And no bimbo young models trying to get a leg up in their career to distract him. A nice dinner with wine. An old movie on the couch. Sex for dessert. Lily was a happy woman.

It was nearing midnight, and though it seemed early, he had a meeting in the morning so they ended the cozy date.

Lily heard sounds from her son's bedroom and went to check on her boy, or turn off the TV since Eric was a good kid and was probably already a sleep. She was so lucky that Eric hadn't turned out like Serena, the wild child.

"Eric, sweetheart," she called out as she walked in. The bed was made and her son was not in the room. She strolled over to the television and turned it off.

Silence swept the hotel suite.

"Eric!" Lily called out.

She walked over to the bathroom and knocked. "Honey, are you in there?"

No response, so Lily turned the knob and peaked in.

She froze.

The sight that greeted her erased the evening's activities.

Her heart skipped a beat as she found movement in her legs and rushed over to her unconscious son.

"ERIC!" she screamed.

That's when she saw it.

His pants were soaked. The tile was running with … his blood.

His body was slouched and his head was resting on the edge of the bathtub.

And then all she could see was _red_.

**.end.**


End file.
